


catharsis

by kxroh



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Different depictions of pregame AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Kokichi is a mean but anxious boy, M/M, Ouma not Oma, Paranoia, Pregame Shuichi Saihara, Shuichi is basically Shuichi but scarier and obsessed with DR, Their relationship is non-abusive, Violence, no beta we die like men, pregame, pregame kokichi ouma - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-08-10 14:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxroh/pseuds/kxroh
Summary: catharsis ( ca·thar·sis )noun1.the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.(a work in which pregame kokichi ouma is haunted by his dreary life but meets a boy that pulls him through the seams)





	1. verbatim

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my pregame fic!!
> 
> I have so much to say, but let me start off by saying that this is my first full fic and not a snippet like I've done many times. I'm still getting used to the flow of writing, because it's been a while and I want to improve my writing style drastically with this. I hope it works out and that y'all enjoy my weird brain scrambles! Feel free to leave a critique though! I'm not scared of opinions lmao,,
> 
> Now for the fic: this is NOT gonna be for the faint of heart. I love really dark themes, so my fic will have a lot of that. Most of this will be rated T, mostly for violence, descriptions of violence, Kokichi's language, vivid intrusive thoughts and themes like anxiety and mental issues. 
> 
> This story will be a story about two troubled souls getting together, supporting each other and trying their best to live in a world that's been/is very cruel to them. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (PSA: My depictions of their pregame personalities are sorta different, so please keep that in mind if you were looking for certain characteristics!)

Chatter. _Chatter._ _**Chatter.**_ A train rushing by. The crossing gates beeping. The rustling of clothes. The wind howling as the train broke through it. The feeling of cold dewy wind on pale skin. Fingertips brushing against an old leather strap. Chatter. _Chatter._ _**Chatter.**_

One gasp of breath entered two lungs as the crowd of students in front of the crossing gates suddenly seemed too big and too loud. The feeling of being stuck between several bodies, impatiently moving in tandem as another train zoomed by, seemed much too overwhelming. A set of eyes, vividly purple, quickly scanned their surroundings for a few seconds but eventually settled on a pair of old shoes. The deafening sound of screeching train wheels rushing over the metal tracks seemed to tune out most of the chatter, but once the train disappeared into the distance the chatter returned in full volume. 

Different voices, young and old, high in pitch or low and gravelly. Some voices sounded wise and quiet, despite not being very old, while others sounded childish and loud, piercing his eardrums like pricks. If he would concentrate, he could pick out the usual topics of conversation: having slept too little, having missed the alarm so no breakfast was had, complaints that it was only Tuesday, some cat that had run away from home and hadn’t returned yet (yes, this guy really missed his cat), et cetera. The same old stories, told over and over. He no longer registered the words that were said, but the noise was enough to cause a migraine by itself.

It took a few seconds for the gates to stop their warning signals. With mechanical whirring the old clunky gates slowly raised. The crowd, too used to this routine, passed the crossing without waiting for the barriers to fully rise. As the crowd merged onto the road past the train crossing, the surroundings became quieter, clearer and the oppressive feeling of being in a busy flock of people slowly dissipated.

After waiting for what felt like a good few minutes, he finally ripped his eyes away from his shoes. His dark plum hair childishly bounced as he raised his head. As he took another gasp of air, the boy named Kokichi Ouma found the will to cross the road. 

It was an early morning still. The sun was hovering just above the horizon, painting the sky a soft yellow hue. The weather had gradually been warming up the last few weeks, but mornings like these were still a bit chilly. Trees were showing signs of sprouting leaves and flowers and the birds were slowly trickling in, pecking around the feet of pedestrians for crumbs. Soon enough the cherry blossom trees would sprout as well and turn the streets a beautiful light pink. It had turned March after all, a month that many looked forward to.

Kokichi huddled into his dark jacket, hiding his pink nose in his collar in an effort to warm it up. He followed the group of students that had crossed the train tracks earlier, as majority were going the same direction – Shimura Academy, just your ordinary medium-sized high school. Out of habit he made sure to keep his distance, not wanting to get caught up in the crowd – but also seeing no purpose in doing so.

The streets were pretty calm, save for the group of students making their way to school. Either the adults had already left for their respective jobs, or they were still snoozing – contrary to him, he himself had gotten up at the crack of dawn to prepare for another gruelling day. The houses he passed were pretty old, big fences or crackly concrete walls separated the actual houses from the sidewalks. Poles that connected to electricity cables and street lights had gone a little lopsided after years of being subjected to the elements and the stones of the sidewalk weren’t very even either. The few overly stuffed trashcans outside of the homes made everything look rather dreary. Kokichi was pretty sure this neighbourhood was one of the poorer ones in his town. He couldn’t judge though, he thought he’d fit in pretty well.

The group of students he was absentmindedly following had gone on ahead and were even further away now. Their chatter had even further dissolved into distant noises that he could easily tune out. Despite his disdain for early mornings, he could appreciate the fresh air, the pretty sky and the silence – save for the distant voices talking. The morning dew pleasantly brushed his pale skin, filled his lungs with fresh oxygen, calming his ever so anxious nerves. A part of him wished he could remain in this moment, but a grander part of him knew that life wasn’t that fair.

Those nerves came back in tenfold when he saw the looming building appear before him – the school. Dark brick walls surrounded the school in a fence-like manner, enclosing the open space that was the slightly unkept courtyard. Beyond the courtyard, the main building seemed to tower over the resident area around the school. Neither the courtyard, nor the building looked particularly fancy, as it was an older school. The courtyard was a collection of some trees and fields of grass, brick paths leading to the main entrance and other side entrances. The building itself was all corners, nothing decorative to look at. Just square windows, straight walls, and some measly stairs in front of the main entrance.

But as fancy as it could look after a little renovation, nothing would free him from the knots in his stomach or the hitches in his breath. As calm as he carried himself, he felt the pangs of anxiety hit him like he was getting pelted by bricks. He couldn’t even feel his feet carry him over the pavement, as he was trying hard to stop his mind screaming at him to turn back, to just go back home, but he knew that that wasn’t an option. 

_Calm down, Ouma. Don’t let them know. Don’t let it show. Don’t let them break you like this._

Reassuring himself he remembered to take deep steady breaths as he boldly walked over the courtyard with his chin raised in the air and his shoulders rolled back. His face melted into a mask of vermin and spite. As he let his anxious persona slip off of his shoulders like a dark veil, he firmly grasped his sharpest daggers and swallowed them whole. Words that he told himself verbatim every single day spilled into his mind as his feet carried him to the main entrance.

_You’re going to be fine._

\---

It was the same sight, again. Nothing had changed and nothing would probably never change. The corridors of the school were loud and crowded, as students were gathering their books from their lockers or walking to their respective classrooms. Some seemed awake and cheery, others seemed rather gloomy and sleep-deprived. There were faces he saw every day and faces he didn’t see nearly enough (not that he cared). Some of those faces seemed to turn in his direction as he forced his lithe body through the crowd, either shooting glares of disgust or turning away quickly. Kokichi ever so slightly grimaced at this.

_Probably still mad I insulted their moms._

Due to his size he easily slipped through the crowd and made his way to his locker. But from his current distance he could already see that some boys were scrambling away from somewhere around his locker. And if he didn’t already know the backs of those heads like the palm of his hand, he could just as well throw himself at them. 

Angry, red text was written all over his locker door. The strokes were messy, aggressive, as if he was convicted of murder and being haunted by it. The angry red color held a greater meaning, striking terror into anyone that would see it. But even worse were the things that were written on that cold metal door. Words that would cut deep, words that were too terrible to say – yet there they were, directed at him. 

… He sighed.

He sighed, because it had no impact on him. Not anymore, at least.

Just as easily as one would brush past a crowd, he opened his locker door to take his books for the day. The red letters that screamed slurs and threats at him went completely unheard and unseen as he slammed his locker door shut and turned his back on the violent graffiti. He didn’t bother telling anyone, he didn’t even bother cleaning it. He just didn’t bother, and left.

\---

Slowly but surely this day had blended together into a blur. Just like any other day, he would walk to school. He would stop at the exact same crossing, wait for the train to pass and continue his way through the old neighbourhood. He would tell himself words of encouragement before he would enter the school hallways, then put his iron mask on and become another him. The him that was braver, stronger, everything that he wasn’t. He would see his locker door vandalised or find that they had slipped razors through the vents in his locker. Some days he would be slammed against it and have a headache for the rest of the day. Some days nothing happened, but he simply couldn’t feel euphoric about it. 

And just like any other day, he would sit in class like right now. The teacher’s voice was but a mumble in the background, drowned out by the absence of his mind. His mind had gone somewhere else long since. His amethyst eyes were locked on the classroom window, staring blindly at a blossom tree outside. Thoughts rushed through his head like several bullet trains, never stopping in their tracks and never even staying on the same track.

He wished he could put a silencer on his mind and pay attention to class instead, but algebra just had to be so indescribably boring.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a tap against his shoulder. He was pretty sure his entire body seized at the touch and his head whipped around in a single movement. Purple eyes met… the rim of a black cap? Were caps even allowed in class?

He frowned, trying to analyse the face behind the cap. Of course, he knew exactly who this was, but the boy was known for being secretive – always hiding behind that stupid cap and always leaving as early as he could from class, from anything really. The class, as far as he knew, considered him non-existent, a ghost. Yet, everyone could not help but be unsettled by the sheer presence of him. Kokichi could get behind that, as even now, the boy was in full hiding.

‘’Uh—‘’

He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been staring at the boy. He quickly averted his gaze, but he didn’t allow himself to seem embarrassed or self-conscious.

‘’What? We’re in class, you fucking emo.’’ Kokichi spat.

He heard the softest of huffs from his side at this remark and he smirked lightly, knowing he had annoyed the boy at least a little.

‘’Don’t call me that,’’ His voice, which was always a miracle to hear – since he only ever talked when he was asked a question, came out incredibly soft. There was a smooth and calm sound to it, even if it was rather high-pitched for a boy his age. Kokichi could hear the slight annoyance in his tone, but that didn’t change how… pleasant he actually sounded. ‘’And uh, I dropped my pencil. It’s next to your foot… Could you pass it to me?’’

Kokichi looked down and actually saw a pencil right next to his foot. He frowned, astounded he hadn’t noticed it at all, but then again, he barely noticed anything in class when he wasn’t paying attention. A rather bratty voice in his mind told him to be a jerk and snap the pencil in half for shits and giggles, but he knew he would get hell for it from both the boy and the teacher.

He picked up the pencil and handed it to the boy next to him, who was very clearly avoiding his gaze as he took the pencil a little too quickly. As soon as he got the chance, he immediately turned away and opted to pay attention to class. No thank you, no acknowledgement, nothing. And oh, did it irk him. Now he HAD to be snide.

‘’Wow, you’re pretty rude. Not even a ‘’thank you’’?’’ Kokichi sneered at him, albeit in a whispering tone. The secretive boy seemed to turn his head slightly in his direction, and unexpectantly he met the direct hard gaze of the boy.

He gulped.

Silver irises, decorated with golden specks of light, pierced right through him like spears. He felt like holes had been punched through his body, ripping away the breath from his lungs. The intense gaze of the boy made every little nerve in his body raise their red flags and scream him to _run_. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad. He had messed with the wrong guy. He definitely, _definitely_, had messed with the wrong guy. He was going to get pounced on after class. _Maybe he would choke me out against a locker. Maybe he would catch me unaware in a bathroom stall and beat me with a bat. Maybe it would be worse maybe he would **slice me with a box cutter maybe he would stomp on my ribs and break every single bone maybe he would--** _

‘’You’ve been the rude one to start with, so I see no merit in thanking you.’’ 

And just like that, the boy shifted his attention back to class.

Once he turned away those piercing eyes did he remember to actually breathe. He slowly turned his amethyst orbs away from the boy, but his mind could not shut away the utter _terror_ he had felt. He could slowly feel his persona slip and tumble, the anxiety of being another target eating him up like a fine rare steak. A part of him knew that he’d probably be fine, that the boy had just seemed scarier than he actually was, but those thoughts weren’t loud enough to ease his fears. 

Every corner of his slightly unhinged mind seemed to only focus on the way those eyes had slashed through his very being.

‘… -kun, are you paying attention to class or nodding off?’’

Kokichi’s head shot up, eyes wide, and focussed on his teacher who was looking at him expectantly. He could feel the eyes of his classmates digging into him, which didn’t quite help with his paranoiac thoughts. The only set of eyes that didn’t focus on him, were the eyes of his perpetrator. Well, at least he had that.

‘’Ah, um, s-sorry, I-, I was just-, I don’t f-feel so-, can I please go to the bathroom?’’

He barely even waited for the teacher’s response as he stormed out of the classroom and into the nearest bathrooms. He slammed the stall door shut, a little too loud maybe, and sank down on the closed toilet seat.

_ **‘’FUUUUUCK.’’** _

\---

The school bell rang.

… Had he really just locked himself in the bathroom for the remaining 20 minutes of class?

Yes, he did. Kokichi looked up from the tiled floor, the realization of his deviant acting sinking in only after a few seconds. He huffed a little too aggressively as his body shot up from the toilet seat. ‘’God fucking damn it, as if shit couldn’t get any worse, I swear to—‘’ As he cussed to himself, he opened the stall door begrudgingly. After moping about for 20 minutes and telling himself that his life inevitably was going to be a mess forever, he had found the motivation to move forward. A strange motivation, really, but Kokichi didn’t like to succumb to his own mind.

Because if he did, he’d be better off not existing instead.

Without hesitance, Kokichi left the bathrooms and stepped into the school hallways. Students were crowding the hallways, either going for lunch or leaving to have the rest of their days off. Kokichi had his lunchbreak about now, but he felt no desire in eating. So instead, he opted to go outside and breathe in some fresher air. 

Keeping his chin up, he traversed the hallway. He paid no mind to any of the other students and definitely was on the lookout for his teacher – knowing he’d get the biggest headache of his life if he encountered her. Nodding off in class was one thing, but skipping 20 minutes of class – while being holed up in the bathroom stalls because some twink scared him shitless - was another. He had to think of a good excuse. 

Finally he reached the exit. He stepped into the sun, sighing a breath of relief.

\---

Only to have that same breath stolen, again. 

Searing pain shot through him as his back hit the brick wall of the school building. His lungs screamed at the impact and several heavy coughs left his abused throat. His whole body felt like it was on fire, but the pain especially was prevalent in his stomach, like a knife was twisted in there. He was surprised he wasn’t coughing up blood yet after receiving a sucker punch like that.

He slowly lifted his limp head, one purple eye – the other too swollen to open – glaring daggers at the three boys above him. They were all from his class, mostly sitting in the back and throwing crunched up papers at others or pulling on girls’ bra straps. Nobody did anything about them, because they were too scared they’d get a piece of their wrath.

Kokichi understood. He regularly got pieces of it. Many.

‘’Oh, did the gremlin get some guts? I thought I punched them pretty fucking well.’’ One of the boys, named Kazue, spat. He was the tallest boy among them, adorning a buzz cut and leaving his uniform jacket open like some rebel. Kazue was, if you would compare them to a wolf pack, the alpha of the small group and always had his lackeys around. Kokichi always found that rather odd, as Kazue was definitely a very strong boy and he alone was a threat many wouldn’t want to be a victim of.

Wasn’t he lucky, huh.

Kokichi simply stayed quiet, lowered his head a little and decided to focus on their feet instead. His dizzy head made it hard to keep his head up, and he hoped that if he played being boring they would leave. It wasn’t a very good lesson, but throughout being the target of bullies he had quickly learned that if you just took the hits and remained uninteresting, bullies wouldn’t hit you as hard. It wasn’t like he could do anything about them anyway, as his arms were far too thin and his muscles were too untrained to defend himself.

So what did he have left as defense? Words. Words were his greatest defense and he wasn’t scared to speak them, but words only provoked and never stopped them. It hadn’t mattered how many times he had tried to talk himself out of the bullying, it never stopped. They never stopped. 

‘’You already bitching out?’’ A pair of feet walked closer to him. He felt a fist close around his purple locks and a painful pull at his scalp. He clenched his teeth as to not wince in pain and kept his eyes averted from the slightly older boy. Even if he wasn’t looking at him, he still could see those beady eyes digging into his very skull. ‘’Do you enjoy getting the shit beaten out of you?’’

His teeth hurt.

‘’Are you a fucking masochist?’’

His molars crunched.

‘’Maybe next time I’ll shove a fucking bat up your—‘’

_Ring._ The school bell. 

The fist swung him forward and his face connected with the rough brick ground.

So much for having a quiet break.

He could hear the clearing of a throat and the next thing he felt was a glob of liquid on his head. Laughter boomed from three directions and afterwards footsteps disappeared into the distance. After that, he could hear no more sound except his own ragged breathing and the soft whimpers that left his throat.

His cheek stung against the scratchy bricks. His stomach convulsed in pain and made him want to throw up. His head pounded as if hammers were abusing the inside of his skull. His eye was swollen and throbbed in pain.

But nevertheless, he slowly placed the palms of his hands on the ground and pushed himself up. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to lay back down, but he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow himself to remain in such a pitiful state. He wouldn’t allow his arms to give out as he lifted himself and his bag from the ground. He wouldn’t allow his shaking knees to buck as he stood up. He wouldn’t allow his consciousness to fade as he held himself up on the brick wall.

He wouldn’t allow any of it.

He wrapped an arm across his stomach, as if that would help with the pain and slowly but surely made his way to the exit of the school courtyard. He walked as if he were on autopilot, as if his pain didn’t exist. Because he wouldn’t allow himself to succumb to that pain. He wouldn’t show the world a soul that was to be pitied.

Kokichi wasn’t going to give in to the world. He would never. His name was Kokichi Ouma and the day he would shed a tear because of the world’s cruelties would be the day he’d willingly part from his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kokichi: your mom gay  
shuichi: wtf ur rude fuck u  
kokichi: surprised pikachu meme


	2. caterpillar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm not a very fast writer unfortunately, so updates will be pretty sporadic. Anyway, enjoy a slightly longer chapter with finally some interactions between our boys sjhfhsfljd

A ticking clock. Scratches of pencils across paper. Pen clicks. Tapping of feet on floor or fingers on wooden tables. Screeching of chair legs as a chair moved closer to a table. The light hum of electronics. The loud noise of someone sneezing.

Bless you, he’d be expected to say, but he didn’t feel like blessing anyone in particular.

His singular amethyst eye focussed on his book, inky black characters telling stories more elaborate and interesting than his own. Stories about how shoguns made their empires in Japan, how they overthrew each other in a lust for power, how they fought for rulership. Powerful men, with diplomacy in the palms of their hands and no qualms about unsheathing their swords. They were the dictators of their time, as they sacrificed their sons, their daughters, and ultimately their own lives. Was there anything more noble than dying as the leader you fought to be?

Kokichi could only dream about it. His thoughts were filled with imaginations more vivid than a painter’s, as he donned a dark cloak around his shoulders. The rim of a black hat blocked the top part of his view as he looked out over a large assemblance of his military. He could almost feel the soft cushioning of the chair, the iron in his hand as he would grip his flag tightly – a proud symbol of two dice pieces flowing in the wind. The power, the superiority he would hold over everyone. He would sit on top of the world and it would be… oh so addicting. 

A small grin donned his abused features as he slid back into the reality that was his stuffy classroom. Everyone was working on their assignments, so he knew pretty sure that no one would see him grinning like a menace. His lips, however, quickly curled back into a scowl as a throbbing pain shot through his skull. 

‘’Fuck.’’ He muttered under his breath as he rubbed his aching temples. He knew going to school would be challenging with the injuries he had gotten the day before, but he didn’t expect to have so much difficulty. As he lifted his head, he checked the clock for the time, hoping that class would be over soon. But he was met by disappointment, there was another 20 minutes of head-splitting reading to do. He sighed, not minding his volume, and leaned his head on top of his hand. His eyes trailed to the window next to him.

His reflection stared back at him. A pale boy with even messier hair than yesterday. He had only one eye, as the other had been covered by an eyepatch to hide how ugly swollen it was. His face donned several bruises, there were plasters over his right cheek, his left cheek had scrapes and scratches and his lip had a large gash – now covered by a scab. He knew there were several more bruises underneath his clothes, so he was rather glad his gakuran covered everything.

His reflection stuck out its tongue at him, as if insinuating he was stupid. Maybe he was, sticking out his tongue at himself in the middle of class. Maybe he meant he was ugly instead, because the bruises, scrapes and bandages didn’t help his face, the darkened skin under his eye showed his sleep deprivation and his hair had turned even more untameable, somehow. Even he didn’t know which insult he’d choose, because they were both just so good. Maybe he could suggest his bullies to call him ugly every now and then.

_’’Ok, mister Sarcasm. Stop your self-deprecating schtick.’’_ He turned his head away from the window and back to his book. The aching pain in his head didn’t feel any better and he sincerely wished he could down 20 painkillers and pass out entirely. 

Involuntarily, his one-eyed vision shifted to the reason he had been chewing on the scabs on his lip since yesterday: the navy-haired mystery boy with the black cap. The enigma that hid behind a thick curtain of secrets. He didn’t seem too invested in his reading, as his fingers were mostly tapping away at his desk – his head tilted in such a way that it seemed like he was staring at the blackboard. He couldn’t tell from his eyes anyway, as those were hidden under the rim of his cap, as always. But that didn’t mean he knew exactly what those eyes _could_ look like. They were imprinted on his mind, the way they had shot daggers right through his soul. 

And despite that, the boy had not acted in any way. Kokichi had been so sure that he was about to become another punching bag. His brain had not stopped envisioning all kinds of ways he could hurt him, maim him, but to his fruitless euphoria he hadn’t brought any of his doom scenarios into action. 

He wished he did, because if there was something Kokichi utterly despised was having only ‘’maybe’s’’ and ‘’what if’s’’ in mind. Because no matter what the outcome was, his mind was settled on the pure speculation that the boy must hate his guts right now and might want to take out his frustrations on him. He _was_ the school’s punching bag, after all. People loved to treat him like he was just an object that they could strike to their heart’s content. The bruises that bloomed on his skin afterwards just symbolized another’s salvation, as if his body took their pain and suffering instead. 

He wondered if the navy-haired boy had known actual suffering. Maybe he should offer himself up for him. Taking out anger felt great, even if one had to beat another person to do just that.

Kokichi shook his head disapprovingly, annoyed by his own destructive train of thoughts, and shifted his focus back to his book. 

\--

‘’Since you skipped class yesterday, you are expected at kitchen duty today, Ouma-kun.’’

His one good eye shot a vicious look at the homeroom teacher, who seemed to have no qualms about punishing him for skipping the last 20 minutes of class yesterday. Little did she know that he spent about 20 minutes trying to keep himself together in a bathroom stall, because _some_ scumbag at the top of this school didn’t bother with any student problems. There were empty promises of contacting parents, kickstarting anti-bullying campaigns, and even a job opening for a social school worker. But if Kokichi knew anything about Japan at all, he’d also know that everyone just turned a blind eye at everything. Sticking out meant being targeted, after all.

Well then, if he was already a target-

‘’I was sick and in the bathroom! You can’t fucking punish me for that!’’ Kokichi spat, channelling every mean bone in his body to protest against his eager-to-punish teacher. She didn’t seem to stutter or even flinch as her hard gaze remained on Kokichi.

‘’Then why didn’t you head for the nurse’s office?’’

As one would think, he couldn’t exactly tell her what really had happened for a variety of reasons. Reason number one, he wasn’t about to admit that he had to spend 20 minutes in the bathrooms to try to ease the whirling mess of thoughts and fears in his head. Reason number two, every fibre of his being was too stubborn and too proud to go ahead and tell her ‘’my classmate looked at me for 0.3 seconds and I felt like he was going to strangle me’’. Lastly, reason number three, he would snitch on anyone if there was a day he wouldn’t face consequences for it. But that day was not today, not tomorrow, not ever. 

‘’I… didn’t feel like my state would warrant a visit. I felt better after a while, so I didn’t bother.’’

‘’That’s a weak reasoning, Ouma-kun.''

''W-What? You never puked your guts out and felt better afterwards? Why would I go to the nurse's office then?''

''You should have let your teacher know in the first place.''

''Well, sooooorry I didn't think to--''

''Ouma-kun, sorry, you’re still on kitchen duty today.’’

He cursed himself, cursed the mystery boy, cursed the teacher, the school, and everyone in it, and huffed in defeat. His face soured at her words and he immediately turned on his heels, not bothering to converse with her any more. He grabbed his bag and started shoving his books into his bag. He could practically feel her disapproving gaze digging into his skull, but he couldn’t care less. Not when even his teacher didn’t let the **clearly** injured kid off the hook, but it was fine. It wasn’t like he needed help anyway. 

He shoved his last belongings into his bag and flung it over his shoulder with an aggressive flourish. Meanwhile, he could overhear the mumbling voices in the classroom. They were muted, came in whispers, and he knew all too well that they weren’t speaking nicely. Words filled with venom, disgust, curiosity, but also pity. In the past, every time he heard them, the words pressed themselves deeper and deeper into his flesh. The gut-wrenching feeling of being seen as gross, unworthy, pitiful would keep digging and digging until he could feel the words carved in his bones. 

But now? He didn’t feel a thing.

He could hear them though, very clearly in fact, and as he overheard a couple of girls talking about his beaten face and the way he had shown his scorn towards the teacher, he felt the need to bare his fangs at them.

‘’Didn’t they teach you to not stick your ugly fucking noses in someone else’s business?’’ He spat at the girls, before turning away and leaving the classroom – grinning as he heard their distress behind his back.

\--

If Kokichi could pick an expression that he could plaster on his face forever, he would be eternally eyerolling. The irritation boiling in his chest should have kept him from complying to the teacher’s punishment, but his last remaining bit of rationality told him to just suck it up. He would only make his situation worse if he decided to rebel and it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. Kitchen duty wasn’t terrible anyway, he probably just had to peel some potatoes.

With a huff he pressed against the door leading to the kitchen. As he entered the slightly warmer environment, he felt every hair on his body shoot up.

Kitchen duty was going to be terrible.

Behind one of the metal kitchen counters, there stood a boy that he did not expect, but that he wasn’t ecstatic on seeing either. Dark cap, navy blue hair, grey-golden eyes just so barely visible under the rim of his cap, now looking directly at Kokichi. Or so he thought. In the split second that their gazes crossed, the boy quickly averted his gaze again and opted to pay attention to what he was doing.

Kokichi saw the head of the kitchen walk up to him from the corner of his eyes, but he barely paid attention to him and his explanation, for the capped boy had captured all of his attention. Anxiety poured into his veins like a wild river, eager to destroy whatever composure he had left. He didn’t even have a chance to catch himself, as his head was pushed underwater, swallowing up all the fear and adrenaline and nearly drowning in it. 

There were many things that could shake Kokichi’s fragile senses, but he didn’t expect that one single person would be able to fill him with this terrible dread. He didn’t understand. How could someone like _him_ bring down his shields, that he built up through years and years of abuse and mistreatment, so easily? It had been just a gaze, some rough words, yet he felt like he could hurt him in the worst of ways.

He exhaled a shaky breath, absent-mindedly nodding at the head of the kitchen. He barely had heard what he was supposed to do, but he could guess from the cutting board and the clean knife at the same metal workspace that the capped boy was working at. Eventually, some gears in his head clicked again, and he turned to the head of the kitchen quickly – just as the man was about to leave.

‘’W-wait! Can I… work at another counter?’’

He saw the capped boy look up for a brief moment, but he elected to ignore his stare as he looked at the head of the kitchen almost pleadingly. But alas, the man did not comply to his wishes and said he should just get to work already.

The door to the kitchen slammed shut and a dreadful silence filled the warm room. Kokichi was left staring at the door for a brief moment, frozen in time, before he had to give himself a mental slap. 

_’’Come on, Ouma. This is nothing. Just shut your goddamn mouth for once, and do your work.’’_

Once he had found a shred of courage again – or as much as he could muster – he walked up to the kitchen counter and took his spot next to the capped boy. The boy didn’t seem to react to him, as he was mostly focussing on peeling potatoes. He could barely see his facial expression, but he figured it didn’t matter anyway. He was here to suffer through his punishment and afterwards he’d never be this close to the boy again. If he survived, at least.

Kokichi’s face turned scornful as he picked up the knife from the cutting board and started on the tedious work. There were a lot of potatoes to peel and he figured he would have to be here for a good hour. An hour, stuck with just him, the boy, and his own intrusive thoughts. This was going to be terrible for sure.

Time passed slowly as neither of the boys spoke or made any moves – besides being busy with peeling. The silence in the kitchen was deafening, as Kokichi could hear every small noise. His breath, which was a tad faster than normal. The boy’s breath, which seemed calm and collected. The noise and scraping of their knifes skinning the potatoes. Sometimes one of them would put the knife down to take a small break, callouses already forming on their hands. There was a sigh, a huff, and a single sneeze coming from Kokichi that seemed to make the boy jump slightly.

But the most annoying sound of all was the ticking of the clock, reminding him each time of how slow time seemed to pass and how much time there was left still. He wished he could walk up to the clock and smash it down from its spot on the wall, but then he’d just have to suffer more punishments.

_ **THWAK.** _

Kokichi’s entire being shook as the loud noise of a knife hitting a cutting board sounded through the kitchen. A rush of fear cut through him like a sharp knife, setting his body on fire again for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t help his heart skipping several beats as his one eye widened and turned to the boy next to him. 

The boy looked rather casual, as he had sliced one of the peeled potatoes in half. His bandaged fingers were loosely curled around the knife, which he raised again for another chop at the potato. It was the most normal thing in the world, but Kokichi couldn’t help but freeze up at the way the knife menacingly shone in artificial light and at the sound the knife made as it hit the cutting board. Despite his efforts to realize how normal the boy’s actions were, his blood ran cold, and all he wanted to do was run away or raise his own knife at him in defense.

If he thought about it, this would be the perfect scenario for a murder. They were in a kitchen, all by themselves, with no one to disturb them for a good amount of time. There was an arsenal of kitchen knives, butcher knives and other dangerous tools to use – whether the boy wanted to stab, slice, bludgeon, or completely amputate something. The counters were stainless steel, easy to clean, and just outside the kitchen there were some very convenient trash containers if he had half the brain to dispose of his dead body – unless he felt like some sensation was in order.

His brain was spinning, spiralling down into delusions and ideas he had no idea he was capable of having. Just the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board had been enough to set him off and as he felt his heart pound in his throat, he wished for a miracle, anything to not make his delusions become reality. For his body was screaming danger at him, and his mind was slowly collapsing under its own weight.

Suddenly, a voice called out to him, stirring him awake from his terrifying thoughts. His wide eye shot back to the source of the voice – the boy next to him. He could just see one eye peeking out from underneath his cap, but it held little to no emotion. He seemed to look away for a brief second, before focussing on the ground next to them. 

‘’You uh- You dropped your knife, you know?’’ 

Kokichi was speechless for a moment’s notice. He could only stare at the boy, not really registering anything for a good few seconds. His thoughts made place for confusion, as even Kokichi had difficulty comprehending what had happened just now. Had he been zoning out so bad that he even had dropped his knife and not noticed it? How much time had passed since he got stuck in his own mind? And the boy probably saw this all happen. Great. Eventually he shook his head, as if shaking away his thoughts, and bent down to shakily pick up the knife.

‘’Uh, yeah. Thanks…’’ he muttered, turning away from the boy to gather himself and his surroundings again. However, he didn’t expect the boy to inquire about his situation.

‘’Hey, are you okay? You turned awfully pale just now… And you looked—‘’

‘’I’m fine!’’ Kokichi cut him off quickly, shooting the boy a rather bashful look. The boy’s interest seemed to falter at that and he resumed his work, picking up the knife again and chopping the potatoes. The silence between the two returned and Kokichi finally got a chance to catch his bearings. 

_’’God… I keep getting worse and worse. Can I not relax for even a minute without shutting down?’’_ He chewed on his lip as he felt his heart beat fast in his chest and tried his best to calm down. Nonetheless, he was still on edge, and he figured he would be for the remainder of this punishment. 

After a few minutes passed, he felt like he was going to go crazy because of the silence – save for the chopping noises. He looked around the kitchen briefly, noticing a monitor hung up on the wall, which was probably for entertainment while cooking. He dropped his knife rather harshly on his cutting board – which elicited a look from the capped boy – and looked for a remote control nearby. As soon as he found it, he switched the television on and started looking for something interesting to listen to instead of gnawing at himself in the silence of the kitchen.

He saw a familiar image of a black and white bear appear on screen and decided to leave the channel on. Its cartoony voice blasting through the kitchen made everything a little more bearable (pun intended) to Kokichi and he got to listen to one of his favourite shows at the same time. He returned to this workspace and continued his work on the potatoes, while he listened carefully. Apparently this week’s episode was a recap of the season so far, but Kokichi had chosen to ignore it for the most part. He knew the entire season by heart anyway, so he didn’t find it necessary to waste his time on a recap.

The boy next to him seemed to be interested in the show too, though to a greater extent. He had stopped his work on the potatoes entirely and was looking at the screen attentively. Because of the way his head was raised, Kokichi could see a slight sparkle in his eyes and a soft pink color adorning his cheeks. He also noticed how unnaturally long his lashes were and how the golden tones in his eyes were mostly tiny golden specks among a sea of grey. He was… actually really pretty.

Before the boy could catch him staring, he turned his head away and looked at the monitor himself. One of the highlights in the recap episode was the mental breakdown of the Ultimate Florist, where she started crying and screaming at her only two friends – telling them to leave her alone. Kokichi had found that a weird progression, since the Ultimate Florist always seemed to be so calm and sweet towards everyone. Many had told that she didn’t have a mean bone in her body, but Kokichi knew that even if you started off as sweet and innocent, you could still go down a very dark path. 

‘’She _definitely_ just killed someone.’’ He muttered more to himself than to anyone else and was about to continue his work, until—

‘’I know, right? She didn’t even freak out this much when the killing game was announced, and now she freaks out like she does and tells her two best friends to leave her the fuck alone? That’s really fishy.’’

Kokichi stared at the boy next to him in stunned silence. The boy looked back at him, much more keen to keep eyecontact this time around. Kokichi wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, but he swore he could see a sparkle of excitement in the boy – something which entirely caught him off guard.

‘’Uh… I agree? Though, she is one of the supporting characters, so I’m not sure if they would kill her off instead of having her be a survivor. Still though, Danganronpa has pulled things like that in the past…’’

‘’Ah, so you watched everything too, then?’’ 

Kokichi nodded. It had been a difficult grind to watch 51 seasons of Danganronpa, but in the end, it had all been worth it. Danganronpa had really been a great distraction from both his home situation as well as his struggles at school and besides that, he truly enjoyed the mysteries and class trials.

He was far more surprised that the boy in front of him liked the show. He didn’t seem like the type to be into shows like Danganronpa, into anything really. He always seemed so calm and collected, yet distant and cold, so for him to like the outrageousness of Danganronpa was surprising, to say the least.

‘’Hey, so what’s been your favourite season so far? I’d love to hear your thoughts!’’

And just like that, the minutes slowly turned into an hour, in which the boys excitedly talked about Danganronpa. The navy-haired boy seemed a lot more talkative when it was about a subject he really enjoyed and Kokichi noticed that he was slowly getting pulled along by him. Though reluctantly, he told him all about his favourite season, characters, murders and masterminds, and got the same in return. 

He wondered why he had been scared shitless of this boy, because at the moment he seemed nothing like a serial killer and more like an excited puppy.

Soon enough, an hour had passed and the potatoes had not been touched since their talk. The head of the kitchen entered the kitchen at some point, curious about their progress, and to his irritation the boys hadn’t done nearly enough. He switched off the television, giving the boys a small rant about not using the television when they were supposed to carry out their punishment – to which they both bowed their heads and apologized.

‘’Hehe, oops.’’ The navy-haired boy said cheekily after the head had left the kitchen again. ‘’Let’s finish this as soon as possible, shall we?’’ 

\--

Soon enough, they had peeled and cut all the potatoes they were supposed to. Kokichi sighed, washing his hands after the hard labour and rubbed over the callouses that had formed on his hands. It had taken a while and his hands hurt, but at least he could say he wasn’t entirely disappointed by the events that had taken place. He had found out that the boy was actually… pretty nice. He had a foul mouth, pretty much like himself, but he seemed much more careful about when to use it. He also was much more passionate about Danganronpa than himself, to the extent that he could call out even the tiniest details of each season – which he hadn’t even noticed himself. He was perceptive, that was for sure.

‘’Wait, why did you actually have to be punished? Mine was just for a petty reason, but what did you even pull?’’

The boy chuckled in slight embarrassment. ‘’Um, I skipped multiple classes, because I was in a long line to get a new figurine of Kirigiri.’’

A short silence fell, before Kokichi burst out in laughter. It felt like the most genuine laughing fit he had in years. 

‘’Wow, you’re such a nerd!’’

‘’It was limited edition!’’

Somehow, that only made his laughing fit worse. He leaned on the metallic counter, trying not to topple over as he couldn’t control himself. It was funny, but he knew it wasn’t _that_ funny to have a reaction like this. Maybe he just hadn’t heard anything remotely funny in a while and his first instinct was to laugh uncontrollably at anything mildly comedic. That was… kind of sad.

The boy seemed to at least appreciate his laughing fit, as he chuckled himself. He waited for Kokichi to recover while he washed his hands and cleaned the counter they worked at. Kokichi soon recollected himself and wiped the tears from his eyes, his abdomen burning up because of the laughter. 

‘’Well then, I guess we’re done here?’’ He got a nod as a reaction from the boy. He grabbed his bag from a corner of the room and slung it over his shoulder, ready to finally leave the kitchen and return home for the day. The boy seemed to have the same idea, though he seemed to linger on something.

‘’Hey… What’s your name?’’

Kokichi turned to the boy, leaning in the open doorpost as he granted him a small smile. Surprisingly, he got one in return, and his heart jumped at how beautiful it was.

‘’Kokichi Ouma. How about you, mister Emo?’’

‘’My name is Shuichi Saihara. And I’m not an emo.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The emo joke is totally a reference to @brightstarwrites !! Go check out their fics, they're a lovely writer <3
> 
> Also, I made some art of the kitchen freak-out scene! You can check it out [here](https://karakvs.tumblr.com/post/187358649680/they-were-in-a-kitchen-all-by-themselves-with)!


	3. tentative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear things are going to get better. At least the last parts of this chapter are pretty cute!
> 
> Also, for this chapter, the previous chapters and future chapters I want to remind you all that this is written from Kokichi’s POV. His POV and my sarcastic writing style combined might result in parts that could sound really offensive or degrading, like the part that I left a * for. I want y’all to know that this is not me saying those things. Abuse, extremely low self-esteem, mental disorders, they’re terrible and no one deserves to live under such conditions. So keep that in mind while you read this fic. 
> 
> I also made a playlist! The playlist will probably grow over time, but these are songs that I listen to a lot to get in the mood for this fic. My music taste is a mess, so expect different sounds. The lyrics are important, they can relate to Kokichi, to Shuichi, to both, and to the future! So, if you want to, pay attention to those, or just enjoy the general mood!  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLovoQTwFP8sRK1pV5luxtLqLqDPuUC6_p

Mirrors were far too cliché.

Kokichi had decided this from a far too young age. He remembered several stories, more than he could count, where any unfortunate soul would look in a mirror and see more than just their reflection. Beyond every little crack, one could find a deep sense of identity. Whether that meant looking at one’s strength, flaws, or the soul as a whole.  
In some way, the stories made sense. After all, studying your own face meant looking past broken skin and crying eyes. It also meant locking eyes with your worst demons. 

Mirrors were considered windows to the soul, but Kokichi preferred to keep that window closed.

He hissed as he aggressively ripped the last band-aid on his pale skin. Now that the bandages and plasters were off, he could see all the scabbed wounds at once. Scrapes, cuts, bruises, his black swollen eye. The palms of his hands, his elbows and his knees had been scraped open as well, a result of him trying to catch himself as he had fallen. His body was a battlefield and he knew he would need at least two to three weeks for everything to heal. That is, if he didn’t get injured any more.

Leaning on the white porcelain sink in an old dimly-lit bathroom, he stared at his face in the mirror and frowned at himself. This would be a perfect moment for self-reflection and wondering where everything went wrong in his life, but he didn’t want to add another cliché to his own totally cliché and boring* story: A boy getting bullied and beaten up, his parents were douchebags, and everyone was either waiting for him to completely snap or to leap off the school’s rooftop. 

He snickered wryly. What a pathetic display. 

He quickly picked up the wet washcloth he had prepared beforehand and started cleaning the cuts and scrapes on his face and body. It hurt and stung, but he knew from personal experience that there were things far more painful than the water seeping into his wounds. 

He watched his reflection carefully as he made sure to get every single wound clean, as he didn’t want an infection on top of everything else. They were just a day old, so they were scabbed over. Some had opened up again throughout the day and somehow his eye seemed even more swollen than the day before. From experience he knew the swelling would go down in a day or two and he’d be coloured in several shades of purple, green and yellow before he would look normal again – less like a colourful field of hurt. 

Soon the washcloth, which was white, had turned into a canvas of red and pink watercolour. The little blood that came from his open wounds seeped into the fabric, bleeding until it ran out of pigment. Was it heme that turned blood red? Hemoglobin? No, wasn’t that the same thing? Ah, he really needed to catch up on his chemistry homework if he couldn’t even remember why his veins were pouring out red liquid. Maybe he should have known facts like that by now already…

No, definitely not. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about the components of blood when all he wanted was to stop bleeding – forever. 

He put down the washcloth, having cleaned all the wounds now. He bent down and opened up his little medical kit he had stolen from the nurse’s office once, rummaging through it for the usual things – neutral-coloured band-aids, bruise cream and some ointment for his wounds. He always felt like he was about to play nurse for someone, but to his dismay there was no one to play nurse for – except himself.

The medical kit somehow always reminded him of the little toy medical kits at the kindergarten. He would pull out a mouth mask, a fake stethoscope, either some Hello Kitty or Shrek band-aids, and get to work on his ‘’patients’’. The stethoscope naturally was just silent plastic and the strings of the mouth mask were shoddily tied together again after stupid Takahashi chewed on them, but with just his fantasy he’d suddenly become the best nurse ever.

He snickered at that memory and his blissful ignorance to a future much less forgiving. 

Kokichi stood up and in front of the mirror again, placing his tools carefully on the edge of the sink. He started applying ointment to his wounds, bruise cream to the purple splotches on his skin and carefully on his black eye as well. Once he felt like he had covered everything, he stuck band-aids over his newly cleaned wounds and looked himself over in the mirror. He kept it brief, as he didn’t want to linger too long and start thinking badly of himself again.

The only thing left was to take some painkillers for his headache, go to bed and try to not think every noise in his room was a ghost or someone breaking in.

He looked through the rather crowded cabinet above the sink, which was full of bottles and strips of various medications, some old make-up that his mother never used but didn’t throw away either, and naturally some throw-away razors. He bypassed everything entirely and took out his strip of painkillers. He noticed he was running low on pills, that meant he needed to visit the nurse’s office soon again. Of course, she wouldn’t just give him strips of painkillers, so naturally Kokichi did what he had to do. 

In all honesty, he didn’t feel bad about illegally taking the school’s resources if the school cared this little about a bullied beaten-up kid. 

He was carefully putting his strip of painkillers back, as he heard a shout and a thud. His head turned at the closed bathroom door briefly, listening for noise outside of the bathroom – but as another voice shouted, he realized quickly that it came from downstairs. He sighed as he popped two pills in his mouth and drank them down with a glass of water. 

_’’They’re at it again…’’_

He cleaned up after himself, putting his medical kit back in its usual spot as another muffled shout sounded through the house. He couldn’t quite catch what the screaming was about, but he’d be lying if he said he cared at all. Most of the time it was just about the same thing anyway. He needn’t wonder. 

He closed the cabinet above the sink and threw away the bits of trash that came with his band-aids. More shouting. Glass shattered.

He changed from his school uniform into his long pyjamas. Doors slamming. 

He haphazardly brushed his teeth, not wanting to bother too much as he just wanted to lay in bed as quick as possible. Did he just hear something move upstairs?

His hands curled into fists around the edge of the sink as he swished some water in his mouth, washing away the remains of his toothpaste. _Someone was definitely moving upstairs._

Uncertainty grasped a hold of him and before he would send himself spiralling in fear, he decided to just move as swiftly as he could to his room. 

He shot out of the bathroom with his uniform as quick as his short legs could carry him. He didn’t take a second to look around the dimly lit hallway and dove into his room. He closed his door maybe a little too loudly, but it was not like anyone could hear that anyway over the shouting. He locked his door and finally released the breath he had been holding.

Safe. He was safe, unless his father had a way of breaking down his door, but he had never done that before, so why would he? He was definitely safe… Though, maybe he had done something wrong today? Did he hear about him skipping class? But why would he care when he pretended like he didn’t exist? No, it should be safe. Unless he suddenly started caring now? Maybe—

_’’God, shut the fuck up for one second…’’_

He held his head in anguish, trying hard to focus on only one thought and not the thousand that went through his head. He knew better. He knew better than to drown. He knew that probably nothing was going to happen and that he was just sinking his own ship.

He straightened his back, breathing in a deep breath and exhaling shakily. He told himself firmly that he just needed to go to bed and try to drift off, if he could. His feet carried him over soft carpet as he made sure his bedroom door was locked. He took a brief look at the poster on his door – a poster of a girl in Lolita clothing and big black drills for hair. She looked back at him with confidence and a mask full of lies. A mask capable of reflecting whichever emotion she wanted to show, and putting her true feelings in the back of her mind where no one could see them.

Every time he looked at this poster, he could only wryly relate in his own way. 

He moved through his rather bare room as if on autopilot. He plugged his cracked phone in its charger, closed his black curtains and flicked his lights off. Through the sudden thick darkness, he easily found his bed and slipped under his blankets – cold to his touch still, but soon to be nice and warm. It took him a few seconds to find a comfortable position so that he wouldn’t be laying on any injuries, but as soon as he did he closed his eyes. 

The voices were still present in the background, shouting, suffocating on each other’s words. They were even louder now, as there was no other sound to mask their screaming. Kokichi sighed, feeling his stomach drop with every shout. Irrational ideas and scornful thoughts filled his head up again and the only thing he could do against them, was remembering how to breathe and hope for the comfortable arms of sleep to cradle him soon. 

Yet, all he got was spiders crawling over his body. 

\--

Oh right… Yesterday had actually happened. 

He wasn’t thinking about his night. His night was pretty normal. Treating wounds, having screaming parents as his background noise, sleeping terribly, just usual things in the Ouma household. No, he was thinking about what had transpired during his punishment in the kitchen.

Had he actually made contact with another human being that ended on a pretty nice note?

Not to say that all his interactions ended in him cussing someone out or getting a fist in his face. Kokichi did remember some instances where he had a nice talk with someone. The old lady who sat next to him on a bench, making small talk while he was just trying to stuff his face with a 7-Eleven sandwich. The friendly cashier at the grocery store who helped him pick up all his coins when he had dropped his wallet. That one avid Danganronpa fan who was in front of him in line at a merch store, telling him his ‘’Danganronpa wife’’ was definitely Ibuki.

But those moments definitely didn’t happen at school. At school, the most he got was some pitiful glances in his direction, boys yelling derogatory slurs at him, or the usual bullies ganging up on him.

This, however, was new. 

And the very person who had blown his expectations out of the water was sitting at his usual table in the classroom, staring at his phone. Kokichi stood in the classroom door for what felt like minutes as he considered what he should do.

His first initial thought was to just go to his own table, ignore Shuichi and pretend like yesterday hadn’t happened. Because what exactly was he supposed to say to someone he had just met? Good morning, naturally, but after that? He could ask him how he’s been, but he knew well how a question like that would go. He could almost envision it. _’’Good morning! How are you?’’ ‘’Good morning. I’m good. How about you?’’ ‘’Yeah, I’m great.’’ ‘’That’s good!’’ ‘’Yeah!’’ ‘’…’’ _

Yeah, no.

Besides that, they had just met. He wasn’t going to act like they were friends when they actually weren’t. It would just be weird if he did, right? 

But the main source of his indecisiveness was the fact that Shuichi had been nice to him, so why shouldn’t he keep up the first nice human interaction he had in a while by just saying hello? That shouldn’t be hard, but was just ‘’hello’’ enough? That would feel too impersonal, as they had not only peeled potatoes until their hands bled (figuratively) but they had had a long conversation about Danganronpa. 

He truly didn’t know how to tackle this. Kokichi _fucking_ Ouma was about to pull out the hairs out of his head because of how socially inept he seemed to be. 

Once he realized he was actually blocking the door for others, he made his move to walk to his table – and also Shuichi’s table. His and Shuichi’s tables were not next to each other, they were diagonal – so Shuichi sat in the row next to his, but one table further. As he walked to his table, he decided hurriedly to just say hello and see if the boy was going to initiate any sort of conversation or just pretend they had never met before.

‘’Uh… Hi?’’ he tried as he approached Shuichi’s table. The boy looked up from his phone, his silvery-golden eyes making contact with his for a second, before lowering themselves ever so slightly – almost disappearing under the rim of his hat.

‘’Good morning, Ouma-kun…’’

…

A silence fell.

If Kokichi listened closely, he could almost hear crickets in the background. 

He didn’t know how much time passed in their conjoined silence, but he could already feel the sweat forming on his back. His brain stuttered, as if it was desperately trying to churn out something substantial against the awkward silence that fell – but alas, nothing intellectual or interesting came to mind. He was briefly considering to ask about the weather, but even he – despite being socially inept – knew that a topic like the weather only made things more awkward.

However, the longer he waited and stared at the boy – whose eyes shifted awkwardly from him to his own hands, plucking at dry skin – the more nervous he felt. Eventually he just decided to open his otherwise clever mouth and shout out something… semi-coherent.

‘’Y-Yeah, good morning!’’ _’’Smooth, Ouma.’’_

In record time he dove for his seat, heart pounding and hands shaking as he sat down. Knots already formed in his stomach, highlighting his utter embarrassment even further. 

Why was it so difficult to just greet someone?

Kokichi couldn’t help but mentally slap himself for his inadequacy and realize that this was why he never tried connecting to anyone, ever. He stuttered, he couldn’t think of a single clever thing to say, his stomach would form knots, his heart would pound, and in the end he would be a shaking mess – too scared to embarrass himself and fuck up everything. And maybe he did just now. Maybe his only chance at having something positive was ruined by his own inabilities. _’’I’m stupid… So fucking stupid.’’_

He didn’t dare look up anymore, so he settled for taking out his books and made an active effort to actually read the study material for today.

An effort is all he could manage.

\--

Lunch time came no quicker than usual. Time felt like the longest piece of gum, stretching and stretching until it shouldn’t be able to stretch anymore – and yet it did. He could be blowing bubbles to amuse himself, but instead he found himself stuck and unable to escape the endless string of time.

But finally, the string seemed to snap and the school bell rang through the classroom. Kokichi’s head shot up briefly, frightened out of his own thoughts by the obnoxious sound. As soon as he realized it was lunch time, he slumped in his chair and let out a deep sigh. He didn’t know how he had survived up until this point – his anxious thoughts no less silent than they were before. He was glad his mind had at least decided to give up on Shuichi and focus on more important matters – like thinking up all sorts of dramatic escape routes to avoid his bullies.

As the students grabbed their lunch or left the classroom to head for the cafeteria, Kokichi remembered he hadn’t packed lunch at all. He would have if his parents had half the brain to keep food in the fridge, but neither of them seemed to care enough about eating at home and more about eating out. He could relate, he’d escape a dreary place like that too if he had the choice. He groaned under his breath, figuring he just had to suffer through this and get himself dinner with the little money he had left.

He ripped his eyes away from the window he had been focussing on for a while, just in time to notice _him_ approaching him. Immediately he felt himself flinch and all the hairs on his body stand up. This time, though, it wasn’t out of fear for his life. It was out of fear for social interaction, pathetically enough. Because as his brain had proven to him, he simply couldn’t bring out anything coherent.

He briefly considered his escape route through the window as an option. He would risk breaking a leg, but he’d rather break a leg than embarrass himself again. 

Shuichi stood in front of his desk now and took the time to sit on top of the table in front of his. His posture didn’t seem to emit anything malicious, he seemed pretty relaxed, though Kokichi sharply noticed in between his racing thoughts that he couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. Kokichi briefly brushed past that fact though, as he wondered more about _why_ the boy had approached him. 

‘’Hey, Ouma-kun…’’ His voice sounded, calm and gentle. Even now, Kokichi appreciated the soft tone of his voice. It wasn't grating on his ears and didn’t overwhelm his senses like loud and abrasive voices did.

‘’W-what do you want?’’ Kokichi blurted out, but as soon as he did he wanted to slap himself. 

Shuichi didn’t seem too phased by this, as his face remained neutral. He didn’t seem to be directly looking at him, but just a little off to the side. Kokichi briefly wondered why that was, but he wasn’t about to ask questions like that.

‘’Are you okay? You seem kind of stressed…’’

That was… surprising. Someone actually asked him if he was okay? Kokichi felt like he had to clear his ears, as he hadn’t heard concern in someone’s voice for a while. Correction: he hadn’t heard concern directed at _him_ for a while. People usually ignored the colours on his face, the venom in his words, and the growling of his stomach. He could scream all he wanted, but he’d be screaming into an empty room – with only his echo as an answer. This time, surprisingly, there was another voice bouncing off the walls. 

But soon his initial surprise turned into something more scornful, and he couldn’t help his frown as he blurted out words that would do more bad than good. 

‘’I’m golden. What’s it to you, though?’’ _’’Because why would you care anyway?’’_

That seemed to rattle the boy a bit, as he pressed his lips together slightly. Though he seemed smart enough and he made the very wise decision to not reply to the rather crude answer. 

‘’Um, did you watch yesterday’s episode?’’ 

‘’Huh?’’ Kokichi tilted his head at the topic change. 

‘’The new Danganronpa episode aired yesterday! Ah, I take it you haven’t watched it then?’’

He… hadn’t, no. The new episode hadn’t even crossed his mind. It had been a long day between carrying out his punishment and trying to scrape up every coin he could find for cheap dinner.

‘’N-no, not yet at least…’’ he answered truthfully. Shuichi didn’t seem to have much of a reaction to that, other than nodding and slumping just a little bit. Kokichi then noticed something about the boy that hadn’t caught his eye yet. There were deep shadows underneath his eyes, dark circles coloured in purple and grey hues. His porcelain skin somehow looked even paler, almost cold to the touch. He also couldn’t keep his hands still, as he seemed to rub at the palm of his own hand or pull at the edges of one of the several band-aids on his fingers. Kokichi frowned. Was he… okay? 

Before he could wonder any more, his eyes turned back to Shuichi’s face as the taller boy started speaking again, now with a little bit more enthusiasm. 

‘’Ah, I just was wondering what you thought about it… Remember what we talked about yesterday? Our theories? Well… I won’t spoil anything, but you’re going to be blown away!’’ His eyes seemed to sparkle at this. It left Kokichi wondering too, what _had_ happened in the episode? But before Shuichi’s enthusiasm could pull him in, he decided to retreat and let his curiosity out. 

‘’Okay, that’s… cool, I guess. Hey, uh, you’re not looking too great yourself…’’

Shuichi tilted his head a bit and seemed slightly confused by his observation, which was funny since the boy hadn’t made an actual effort to hide anything. Anyone could just take one look at his face and see that he wasn’t well and that he probably needed at least 12 hours of sleep. He apparently was oblivious enough to have missed this fact. ‘’Oh, it’s nothing! I just didn’t sleep so well, is all.’’ he answered casually with a wave of his hand.

Kokichi nodded slowly, not sure why he had shown concern for Shuichi’s state. Was he just trying to be nice? Was he genuinely worried over a boy he had just met? He blamed it on mere curiosity and smothered his further thoughts. Before Shuichi could even open his mouth and continue his chatter about – probably Danganronpa – a growling noise broke the brief silence between them. Now it was a fact that Kokichi hadn’t eaten anything, but he was pretty sure it was _not_ his stomach that had been growling. So that only meant one thing.

He snorted lightly at the noise. ‘’Wow, you should probably go eat.’’ he said. Shuichi bashfully turned his head to the side at this, looking at nothing in particular. He seemed a little… ashamed? Kokichi couldn’t help a chuckle at how the big bad serial killer was being _shy_ about the sound of his own stomach. 

‘’Yes, probably… You should too.’’ Shuichi then pointed out. 

Kokichi blinked. ‘’Huh?’’

‘’Ah, I’ll admit that I don’t have lunch today, but it seems you don’t either. Everyone else is eating or has left for the cafeteria... Don’t you have food?’’

Again. There was that concern again. That grating nerve-wracking concern. That concern that made him want to reach out, yet push everything away. The concern that made him think no one would ever care about him, but wish for someone, _anyone_ to genuinely care. But who would care about a broken doll? Some would maybe care about a broken doll, but if a doll was broken, was it even worth it to salvage it? Was _he_ even worth care and concern? 

Wouldn’t a broken doll just be thrown away in the end, because no matter who you tried to sell it to, it just wasn’t worth enough coins?

It hurt to think. It legitimately hurt to think of a response, as one half of his being wanted to push Shuichi off that table and tell him to stop concerning himself with him. The other half wanted to reach out, tell him that he wasn’t fine and he needed someone to lean on before he would collapse for good. But as he opened his mouth, he could only half-shout out words that would seal his fate.

‘’S-shut up, I don’t need your concern!’’ He looked directly at Shuichi, teeth clenched, his eyes spitting anger at the boy. But as much as he sought, he could not meet Shuichi’s eyes, so he turned his head away from the boy and settled for looking out of the window. His heart pounded in his throat and as the realization of his words sank in, he could almost just break down there and then. 

But as if he didn’t feel like the lowest scum already, he just had to hear the consequences of what he just had done to himself.

Shuichi _sighed_. A single frustrated sigh left his chest as he got off the table. 

_**‘’You know what? Forget this conversation ever happened.’’**_

And he was gone. He took his bag from his table and left the classroom in utter silence.

Kokichi wasn’t even surprised. Not the slightest bit. As he watched the boy leave the classroom, the only thing he could feel was utter—

Debilitating—

**_Disappointment_**. 

And the worst part? He had no one to blame other than himself. 

As he slowly shrunk and hid his face on his arms – which he laid on the table – he struggled to dodge every derogatory adjective that was thrown at him. Like tomatoes in his face. Like stones at his youth. Like every punch he had ever taken from his bullies.

They came and came and wouldn’t stop telling him how terrible he was and wouldn’t stop blaming him for every mistake he had ever made. Because in the end, he could point fingers all he wanted, but he would just be pointing at his own reflection. And his reflection would give him a terrible smile of inhuman properties and tell him that _‘’Kokichi Ouma, you only do this to yourself and that’s precisely the reason why you deserve to suffer like this’’_. 

Kokichi shook his head, desperately trying to escape -- considering that ‘’fuck it, I might just as well jump out of that window’’ – but he could only succumb to his imminent nausea and storm out of the classroom before his entire stomach forcibly would emerge from his throat.

\--

The hours that came after didn’t feel like stretched gum anymore. They felt like wasted time. Hours gone by, with no real meaning or accomplishments. Minutes that told him that seconds had passed, but seconds that made him aware he existed – but for what good?

It was wryly hilarious to him that he could have a conversation at one point in time, but then feel like someone had changed the time on the clock and suddenly he was at the end of his day. A part of the timeline was missing, but even if you paid him good money for it, he wouldn’t want to retrieve it. Why would he when they were just empty hours?

He ripped his eyes away from wherever he was looking – he wasn’t sure himself, and stared into an almost empty classroom. The bell had rang and everyone had been packing up for the day. Most of the students had left already, with just 3 people left in the room who were either packing or asking questions to the teacher. None of them seemed to pay attention to the boy who hadn’t even begun to clear his desk yet and was just staring into oblivion.

Kokichi, as if on autopilot, started packing his books in his bag and tiredly lifted his bag on his shoulder. His legs felt like bricks as he left the classroom and entered the school hallways – which were almost empty as well, safe for the warm light of the setting sun casting columns of orange light. A sigh left his lungs, but it only triggered the taste and smell of bile in his nose and throat. As he didn’t have lunch or had anything to drink, the taste hadn’t left yet, but in some way he saw it as his self-inflicted punishment. Maybe if he was lucky, the bullies could also get some hits in later.

He didn’t bother passing by his locker to leave his books. His heavy legs carried him through the halls, the sun bright on his face as he was passing several big windows which let the orange light in. He would normally admire how beautiful it was, but at the moment he could shoot the sun and not care less about the world destroying itself. 

Another pair of steps sounded through the hallway besides his own. The squeak of their indoor shoes echoed briefly, but disappeared as soon as it came. Kokichi briefly looked up at this.

And his senses returned in full force.

The boy who had received his harsh treatment was walking in front of him, having entered from one of the side hallways. The boy who had disappeared during lunch and hadn’t returned for the second half of their lessons. The boy who—

Had shown clear concern for him, but he had pushed him away like a jerk.

It didn’t take much for Kokichi to break into a full sprint. As his feet echoed through the hallways, he couldn’t help but be confused by his own actions. He rapidly questioned himself about what he was doing, why he was running at this boy he didn’t even know for two whole days, and why he felt such an overwhelming need to fix this. Didn’t he want to push Shuichi away, to avoid him getting close and leaving him behind again? Didn’t he feel unworthy of other’s concerns about him?

Didn’t he feel like the most despicable human on earth, undeserving of anyone or anything?

‘’Hey, wait!’’ His voice shouted out for him as he grabbed Shuichi’s sleeve impulsively to stop him in his tracks. Shuichi stopped his walk, but didn’t turn around to face him. As if he was trying to spare him from whatever emotion was on his face. Kokichi took this as a chance to gather up all his courage and spout out words he hadn’t even considered until this moment. 

‘’Look, I’m… I’m sorry… I uh, I didn’t mean—‘’ He stumbled over his words, not sure how to convey that gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach into proper sentences. He couldn’t keep his eyes on Shuichi and lowered his head in shame, utter shame that he couldn’t even apologize like a normal human being. ‘’Jeez, I was r-really, um— I shouldn’t have… Fuck—’’ 

He felt like he could break out into a panic at any moment, but he needed, no, he _had_ to fix this. But how? How could he—

Kokichi almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The hand gently squeezed around it and once he looked up, he was met by silver-golden eyes – looking directly into his. They weren’t cold or angry like he expected. Instead, he felt like his insides were being warmed, melting away the worries he had. His sincerity put a silencer on him, and even his thoughts couldn’t make a worst-case-scenario out of this.

‘’I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s fine. I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have intruded...’’

Kokichi let out a shaky breath as he looked at Shuichi wide-eyed and in astonishment. Once Shuichi averted his eyes again in bashful fashion, only then was Kokichi able to pick up his speech again.

‘’No, no, you’re f-fine! I mean— God, it’s fine, okay? I appreciate your concern… And I’m really… really sorry…’’ He felt his cheeks turn red at his admittance and he too averted his eyes, opting to stare at the wall of lockers. To his brief amazement, he could see their shadows cast against the lockers, surrounded by the orange glow of the sun. Shuichi’s shadow moved, his hand left his shoulder and he briefly adjusted his hat before letting his hand hang next to his side again. For how natural it was to see a shadow move, Kokichi couldn’t help but admire it a little. The way their shadows stood in front of each other too, their clear height difference, the silhouettes of his bouncy hair and the rim of Shuichi’s cap… 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as he turned his head to look at Shuichi again, whose eyes were now focussed on Kokichi again – but not directly anymore. To Kokichi’s wonder, he seemed to have a slight smile on his face.

‘’Again, it’s okay… Um… A-Are you hungry? How about we just… forget everything that happened today and start over, over some hamburger steak?’’

Forget everything that happened? Start over? Over hamburger steak? As if Kokichi didn’t have enough questions already, even more question marks appeared. He couldn’t believe that Shuichi was so eager to forgive him. He had been terrible to him when he had shown him nothing but a friendly conversation and genuine concern. He had offended him even before that, thought he was a serial killer or something, and Shuichi wanted to _start over_?

Kokichi couldn’t even help but perk up at his offer. Despite his disbeliefs, he felt ecstatic that Shuichi didn’t seem to have a grudge on him. But soon realized he didn’t have the money to spend. He could only afford instant cup noodles and maybe one rice ball, if he was lucky. Besides the money, doubts already filled his head and he wasn’t even sure if he should accept his offer as he could just screw everything up again. 

‘’I don’t have money, though…’’ he admitted, not voicing his other concerns.

‘’I’ll pay, then.’’

Kokichi shook his head rapidly. ‘’No, no. You don’t have to. Um, I can’t pay you back anytime soon…’’ he told him, albeit in a quieter tone. Shuichi, however, didn’t seem to give up on the idea.

‘’No problem, this will be my treat then. How about that?’’ he offered. 

Kokichi could only stare at him in disbelief. He wanted to pay for him? After today? He knew Shuichi didn’t seem to have a grudge on him, but he couldn’t possibly consider paying his dinner after he had been so vicious? He didn’t deserve that in the slightest.

‘’W-what? No! I can’t accept that.’’ he exclaimed. ‘’I mean, I was a fucking asshole to you, s-so you can’t possibly—‘’

‘’It’s okay, Ouma-kun, really!’’ Shuichi insisted, chuckling a little at Kokichi’s disbelief. ‘’It’s no problem, honest! I know a pretty good place. Ah, we can also watch the episode on my phone, if you want!’’ 

And the smile that followed after was so bright, Kokichi was sure he could rival the sun. His heart fluttered, as if it grew tiny butterfly wings and became weightless. It spread a warmth from the inside out, nearly making his cold fingertips feel like they were gently thawing, and turned the icy tears burning behind his eyes into drops of honey. 

This was undoubtedly the nicest thing someone had ever done for him.

Kokichi took a deep breath and forced his tears back before nodding along. ‘’O-Okay, if it’s no problem…’’ The corners of his mouth curled up in a smile and as they smiled at each other, the dark clouds in his mind made place for a clearer summer’s day. ‘’Okay… So, start over, you said?’’

‘’Uh, yeah.’’ Shuichi reached out his hand, his smile turning a little more shy as he introduced himself again. ‘’My name is Shuichi Saihara, I’m your classmate and an avid Danganronpa fan.’’

Kokichi snorted and took his hand. It was warm, a little rough due to dry skin, but otherwise welcoming. ‘’I’m Kokichi Ouma. Nice to meet you, fanboy.’’

Shuichi chuckled and Kokichi marvelled at the sound.

\--

‘’This… episode… No. WAY.’’ Kokichi yelled out, earning slightly annoyed looks from the other customers in the diner.

‘’Yep.’’ Shuichi confirmed, smiling at Kokichi’s shock about the new Danganronpa episode. Shuichi had allowed him to watch it on his phone after their food and honestly, he was right – The episode blew Kokichi’s expectations right out of the water.

‘’SHE FUCKING DIED?’’ 

Shuichi laughed. ‘’Please watch your volume, Ouma-kun! But yes, she died. Double murder, go! I have never been so wrong in my entire life.’’

‘’Sorry.’’ Kokichi huffed and sat back in his seat, the cushioning of the brown couch welcoming him right in. He stared in the distance for a bit, briefly looking at one of the food posters in the small diner. It was a cozy place, small, but not too small. The interior was mostly made up of brown, booths of brown couches and tables lining the walls. The lighting was a little dim, but they made up for it by hanging string lights and small paper lanterns everywhere. There was an abundance of greenery around, but no actual flowers to speak of. Despite the small size of the diner, there were a lot of customers. Shuichi was right, this really was a good place.

Kokichi sat upright again. ‘’They really keep throwing us off this season! Double murders are always a chapter 3 thing!’’ 

‘’Yeah, I feel like this season is pretty experimental in that regard. It’s a nice change of pace though, makes it a real challenge to guess who’s the blackened and who is the mastermind!’’ Shuichi pocketed his smartphone again and turned his full attention to Kokichi again, eager to hear his thoughts more.

‘’So, any theories for who is the actual blackened? I’m not sure yet, I’ll need to think about this for a bit!’’ Kokichi asked and as he requested, Shuichi began rambling about several theories he had thought of. ‘’Several’’ meaning that he was at least talking for 30 minutes straight and in those 30 minutes Kokichi actually lost track of where one theory began and where the other ended. They started blending together for him, mashing up into one big conspiracy theory that could rival the illuminati.

Shuichi, however, seemed eager to tell him everything – so eager that Kokichi noticed his cheeks had turned fiery red and saliva had trickled down the corners of his mouth. His eyes had gone unfocused and his speaking manner was starting to turn giggly, as if he was a teenage girl telling a story about her boy crush. When he was done speaking, Kokichi felt like Shuichi had expressed his thoughts in one breath and _he_ was the one feeling exhausted because of it. 

‘’Wow…’’ He mouthed, grabbing a tissue from the tableside dispenser and handing it to him. ‘’That was a lot, my brain is spinning… How did you come up with so many theories?’’

Shuichi took the tissue and wiped away his drool, but it had no use as saliva found its way down his chin again. ‘’Oh, I just spent all night theorizing! I watched the episode multiple times to catch some of the clues and tried to come up with some good theories! I was so invested that I didn’t realize the sun came up! I even forgot to eat dinner, breakfast and lunch!’’

Kokichi blinked a few times, not sure if he heard him correctly. If his ears didn’t deceive him, this boy claimed to stay up all night to theorize and skipped meals because of it. He blushed, drooled and couldn’t stop talking for 30 minutes straight and seemed totally out of it. Kokichi wasn’t sure if he should be shocked, confused, or just disgusted.

‘’I don’t… think you should talk so lightly, Saihara-kun. That’s really not good… I bet that’s why you look so tired.’’ he tried carefully, not sure how to snap him out of his daze.

Shuichi didn’t look fazed at all by his statement. ‘’Ah, I appreciate your concern, but it’s okay, really! I’ll just go to bed early and I’ll be refreshed by tomorrow!’’ 

What would anyone do to snap someone out of a crazed state? Kokichi didn’t have any experience in dealing with people who had entered a state of stupor, besides maybe his parents when they came home drunk from their respective izakaya’s – but generally they went straight to bed, so that wasn’t comparable in any way. If he had to reference anything from books, well, there wasn’t any reference.

However, he did remember one scene from Danganronpa that could help…

Kokichi leaned over the table, reaching out to Shuichi who had already gone on ahead to talk about another theory of his. He took a deep breath and hoped this wouldn’t get him beaten and bruised—

** _Slap._ **

… Well, maybe a little harder than necessary, but yes, he slapped Shuichi across the cheek. 

The navy-haired boy blinked rapidly, his brain not registering what had just overcome him. For a moment, the pair fell into complete silence, before Shuichi actually looked Kokichi in the eyes in clear distress.

‘’Ouch? What was _that_ for?’’ he exclaimed, earning a slightly impish chuckle from the smaller boy.

‘’You were getting really gross, so I had to snap you out of it!’’ Kokichi sat back, amused by Shuichi’s confusion. The taller boy looked around in slight bewilderment before bowing his head – clearly hiding his embarrassment.

‘’S-Sorry… I kind of… lose it when I get too much into Danganronpa talk. I didn’t mean to disgust you or anything! It’s just a really bad habit I have and I try to control it, but sometimes it just gets out of hand and I really hope I didn’t—‘’

‘’Saihara-kun!’’ Kokichi called out firmly. Shuichi jumped slightly and his head snapped up to look at Kokichi, who just granted him an easy smile.

‘’It’s okay. I’ll slap you anytime you need me to!’’ And somehow, when Kokichi wasn’t overthinking everything and wasn't paying attention to his anxious train of thoughts, he knew what he had to say. He knew, because he understood and because he knew what _he_ wanted to hear when he was at a low point.

Shuichi’s expression shifted from uneasiness to one of relief. 

‘’Thank you… Don’t slap me again, though.’’

‘’Well, I don’t know how to snap you out of it otherwise!’’

‘’Just… Slap me softer?’’

Kokichi burst out in joyful laughter and soon Shuichi followed suit. Their combined laughs filled the small diner, and despite their rocky start, Kokichi could feel a happiness blossoming in his chest. The happiness of having made… a friend? Were they friends? Was this what it was like to have a friend?

He had no idea, but he bet friends got kicked out of diners because of noise complaints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (707 bursts in) ‘’hAvE yOu eAteN yEt?’’
> 
> [art of the hallway scene!](https://karakvs.tumblr.com/post/188068105080/hey-wait-his-voice-shouted-out-for-him-as-he) made by yours truly,,


End file.
